You Can't Teach An Old Nation New Tricks
by M4R1N4 R4CU
Summary: The world is changing, aru. I must face it - but it's so hard to adapt to, aru! After living 4OOO years it is rather hard to completely change my view of the world. Nothing is as it used to be, aru. I am Wang Yao, the representative of the People's Republic Of China. Here is a story about how the younger formerly communist nations taught me a lesson on this subject - have fun!
1. The Book Of Faces

The Book Of Faces

Briing! Briing!

I shot out of bed as the earsplitting ringtone ruptured the silence. With two fingers, I gingerly picked up the thin, rectangular plastic-y thingy and held it up before me, trying to remember which button Mei said was the 'End Call' button. Severely annoyed at the iPhone that simply would not stop ringing, I finally pressed a random button.

Worse luck, Elisabeta's high-pitched, smooth voice came on - so quickly it made me jump.

"Ciao, Yao!" she chirped. "Hope I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Oh, it's no trouble aru, I've been awake for hours," I lied.

"Oh awesome! Yao look, here's the deal, um, I'm planning this year's 'Used to Be Communists/Still Are Socialists' reunion. A few of the old gang have already said they want to come, and we'll figure out when and where to hold it. So-o-o, you coming?"

I was about to answer _yes_ when suddenly a worrying thought came to mind.

"We-e-ell, um...it's not going to be LASER TAG, is it aru?"

Elisabeta's ultra-loud laugh blasted into my ear, causng me to drop the devilish western thingamajig.

"No, Yao dear, we all remember THE INCIDENT. Don't worry, you can always change your mind!"

"We-ell...OK, I guess, aru."

"SUPER!" Hungary screeched. "OK, man, we'll all be on Facebook at, um, 6:30 to discuss the date and location. Be there! _Viszontlatasra_!"

"Wait, what...Face...book? What's that... _what_?" I asked, confused. But it was too late. The beep signifying the end of the conversation had long ago sounded out, aru.

Oh, no, aru.

I slumped back against the wall. Whenever I agree something with these 鞭子, this sort of thing always happens, aru.

I wouldn't even have a phone if Mei hadn't practically _dragged_ me to one of these new-fangled stores and chosen one with a pretty decor of pandas on the - what was it called? - _carcass_. (Eew, westerners have such weird names for stuff, aru.) I would have chucked it into the trash as soon as I got home, aru, if it weren't for those pandas, they conquered my heart. Now they are my friends, aru. I don't like them so much, though, when their home (the phone) gets me into such a mess, aru!

Oh never mind that, aru, I was supposed to talk to Hong Kong about something anyway, aru. He's always so _into_ these strange foreign gadgets - he'll be sure to know about this Book-Face or Face-book or Book of Faces or whatever Elisabeta said, aru.


	2. Shadow Of Trouble

Shadow of Trouble

Alright, so I hurried over to the little cafe where Hong Kong had told me to meet him, aru. (Not in my bedclothes, though, I hope that is remotely obvious.) Hong Kong was already there, aru, he is always so punctual! My little baby.

So I said Ni Hao and he said the same, and then I said "你吃了你的食物" and everyone in the cafe looked at me strangely, aru, and I was so uncomfortable. So Hong Kong smiled patronizingly at me and said, "Uh, gramps, no one says

Shadow of Trouble

Alright, so I hurried over to the little cafe where Hong Kong had told me to meet him, aru. (Not in my bedclothes, though, I hope that is remotely obvious.) Hong Kong was already there, aru, he is always so punctual! My little baby.

So I said Ni Hao and he said the same, and then I said "你吃了你的食物" and everyone in the cafe looked at me strangely, aru, and I was so uncomfortable. So Hong Kong smiled patronizingly at me and said, "Uh, gramps, no one says 你吃了你的食物 anymore."

"Oh, what does everyone say then, aru?"

"Yo."

"What the - "

"No swearing, gramps."

"I AM NOT YOUR GRANDFATHER, ARU, I AM YOUR BROTHER!"

Well, aru, I sort of scream - whispered because I didn't want to embarrass myself more than I already had. So no one heard me but Hong Kong, and he just made a little motion as if he was about to slip his blasted head phones on again. Then he must have realised that we were here to chat and not to annoy each other, and seeing as I was getting pretty darn annoyed he smiled and let his hands down, aru.

"Hong Kong," I whispered, "I need your help."

"What with, gram - I mean, bro?"

I tried to keep my cool, aru. "I've been invited to some little party by Hungary and she told me to meet her on Book - Face to talk about the details - "

"It's called Facebook."

"I smacked my head. Yeah, whatever, aru. I just wanted to ask you - " at this I blushed fifty shades of red - "What is facebook, aru?"

Hong Kong smiled again, this time sympathetically, thus significantly increasing the difficulty I was having in not raging completely, aru.

"You DO have a phone, I assume, don't you, Yao?"

"Yes," I said with some relief.

"Wow," Hong Kong said. "Well, switch it on and I'll show you."

So I did as I he asked, completely ignorant of the embarrassing but I must admit, rather humorous path it was about to lead me down.

你吃了你的食物 - this is an old traditional Chinese greeting which literally translates to "have you eaten your food".


	3. Mourning For My Hair

Chapter Three, aru

Mourning For My Hair

I stood in the hair salon downtown, waiting for my turn, aru. Would you like to know how I wound up there, what with my beautiful hair being _already_ so perfect and all?

Well, after Hong Kong explained the concept of Facebook to me and helped me to set up an account, I was so pleased with his help that I asked him for a few tips on how to act less like a 'gramps' and more like a 'bro' (In Hong Kong's own words, aru.)

Among many he suggested I change my hairstyle.

"But my hair is beautiful!" I originally protested.

Hong Kong slapped his forehead and explained, "Yes, yes, gram-Yao, but nobody wears their hair like that anymore."

I looked around me at the other men in the cafe. It was true , aru. None of them wore a ponytail like me - they all had short hair, like Hong Kong and - urrgh - JAPAN!

 _Come to think of it,_ I thought, _It's true. I haven't seen Kiku wearing that top-knot of his since the early 19th century._

That was what settled it. I was not going to allow my arch-rival the satisfaction of being more modern than me, aru!

And now I could hear some young woman, in a tight black top which left her stomach bare, (scandalous, aru!) saying "Mr. Wang, it is your turn now," after glancing at her little pink clipboard. She led to me to a big weird squishy seat, aru, and by now I kind of wished that I could just run out of the hair salon and forget all about this ordeal, aru. But I would have looked like a baby, so I just sat down uneasily in the plush leather chair. They sprayed my hair with some weird liquid, I hope and assume it was water, and then slipped a sort of plastic cape onto me. (For the love of tranquillity, couldn't that woman just lop off my ponytail with scissors, aru!)

"That is a strange hairstyle," she commented.

I blushed, aru.

"Well, I know that it's been out of fashion since the 20th century but…um…I was doing a (what was that word Taiwan used to describe dressing and acting like someone, aru?)…a cosplay," I blatantly lied.

The woman smiled with surprise. "Interesting! Who were you cosplaying?"

"I was doing it for my sister," I explained, caught up by the awesomeness of the idea I had just had. "It was a Hetalia cosplay. I was cosplaying APH China."

"Really?" the young woman exclaimed excitedly. "I love that show!" She took two steps backward and surveyed me from top to bottom with an appraising look. "Too bad you want to cut it off," she finally sighed as she pulled the elastic out of my hair. "You look just like him!"

She shrugged and got to work primping and styling my hair, aru. Then she began snipping off random strands of my hair one by one, not with a scissor but with some strange, shiny tool.

Soon she was done. She sprayed my hair and combed it quickly, aru. By then I was actually quite curious to see my new hairstyle, so I asked to do so and the woman gave me a small mirror.

She slapped her forehead. "Oh no, I am so stupid! I can't believe I didn't ask to take a photo of you before I cut your hair! Man, you looked JUST LIKE him!"

Really, I thought.

I lifted it up to my face and saw a strange guy with dark hair and pale-yellow skin. He looked like me - except with Japan's hair!

I felt like screaming, honestly I did, aru.

I would have asked the pretty woman to get rid of the annoying fringe cut that is so typical of Japan, but she was already handing me the bill so I got all flustered, aru, I just paid her and walked out of the hair-cutting place. I kept getting an impulse to raise my hand and touch my ponytail but then I'd remember it wasn't there anymore and I'd almost feel like crying, aru.

But that's so stupid and babyish, to cry after your hair! I can't believe I just told you that, aru! For panda's sake, I am over 4000 years old!

By the way, aru, you have to promise not to tell Kiku about all this or I will simply die, and I won't be your friend anymore.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	4. The Spider's Web

Spider's Web

I was sulking in the privacy of my own home, every now and then taking selfies and deleting them just to show how much I hated my new look; it reminded me of the guy I hate most of all my nation buddies, that neko-eared, yaoi-reading, otaku kid. (I can't believe I didn't leave him to starve in the woods, aru.) Whenever I saw my reflecion in the window , a cup, a doorknob or the screen of my turned-off phone, I missed my ponytail so much, aru! After 4000 years of the same hairstyle you get rather atteached to it, aru.

Then I remembered that I was supposed to 'meet' everyone else on Book-Face, pardon me aru, I mean Facebook. I quickly popped my laptop open and turned it on. I no longer have any trouble with the Start Button, ever since Russia invited me over on pretext of dinner and instead made me push the start button again and gain until I got the hng of it, aru. But never mind the sorrows of the past – back to my story, aru.

The screen turned blue and read 'Windows Starting'. Soon I heard a weird little noise and I saw the desktop background that Taiwan chose for me, aru – it's an old photo of me hugging panda in the morning, when I'd just woken up. He's licking my cheek and I'm laughing, still in my pjs. Japan thought it was cute, so he took a photograph, and Taiwan thought _that_ was cute. So now I see it whenever someone forces me to use this technological abomination, aru.

Somehow I remembered how to log onto the internet, due to the same form of extreme training that Russia provided me with. The screen was white now, with little squares suggesting different sites. Taiwan had been kind enough to leave Facebook on one of those squares, so I awkwardly clicked on it.

From there it was easy enough; it showed me exactly where to type my email 'adress' and password. (Thank you, Korea, for setting up a gmail account for me five years ago!)

Then I logged on. The first thing I saw was my profile picture next to a box that read 'What's on your mind?' So I typed "Facebook is a stupid site invented by western whippersnappers for boring and bland young people who don't have the guts to communicate face to face with their 'friends', aru."

What, aru? It wanted me to type what was on my mind, so I did!

Suddenly, a little square popped up in the bottom-right corner of my screen, with th name 'Elisabeta Hedervary' on the top.

Elisabeta Hedervary is writing...

Elisabeta Hedervary: yo, yao! here you are! dude, im making a facebook page for ur reunion. I'll invite you, join it so we can chat

Yao Wang: whats a facebook page?

(You see, I had no idea why she was suddenly typing without any capital letters or apostrophes so I figured it was just another thing you had to do. I therefore followed her example.)

Elisabeta Hedervary: *sighs* ok yao, ill phone u & xplain

Seen 4:32 p.m.

So I closed the square by pressing the x in the corner.

While I waited for that panda-covered plastic contraption to ring, I looked at the various ads on the left-hand side of the page. One read, "Earn 50000 yen a month from home without working!" So I clicked on it – _I_ want 50000 yen month without working, aru!

But the internet is a scary and dishonest spider's web of immortality, aru – it did _not_ send me 50000 yen!

It took me to a site where...where...you can hire _prostitutes_!

 _AIYAAA_!


	5. A Conversation of the Nations

Chapter Five

A Conversation Of the Nations

Elisabeta phoned me, sweet girl, and provided me with a step by step tutorial on how to access the facebook page she'd created. Heavens, can that nation multitask! By the time I made it to the facebook page it already had a name (Communist, Formerly Communist And Post-Sovietic Buddies) and cover photo!

Here is our conversation, aru! I printed it and glued it here for you!

Elisabeta Hedervary: hi yao!

Yao Wang: ni hao

Yao Wang: and what am I supposed to do now?

Elisabeta Hedervary: we wait for the others

Iancu Popescu: Hi guys!

Elisabeta Hedervary: =(

Iancu Popescu: =P

Yao Wang: hi romania

Iancu Popescu: 'Neața

Elisabeta Hedervary: Hey Romania, when did I invite you?

Iancu Popescu:you invited bulgaria who later invited me

Iancu Popescu: speak of the devil

Gheorghiev Ivanov: Helloooooo!

Elisabeta Hedervary: wutevr, just stay out of my way

Iancu Popescu: :)

Yao Wang: uuuh...guys?

Stefan Popescu: Hi!

Iancu Popescu: wtf? moldova get off my phone ur not invited

Elisabeta Hedervary: yeah he is!

Anya Braginskaya: Privyet!

Ivan Braginsky: yo!

Elisabeta Hedervary: ur not invited either

Ivan Braginsky: no fair

Natalia Braginsky: yo!

Natalia Braginsky: o let him come! plzplzplzplzplz! he my fave bruh im not coming if he cant come

Ivan Braginsky: jesus

Elisabeta Hedervary is writing…

Feliks Lukasiewicz: belarus ur not invited either the lifeguard would kick us out

Natalia Braginsky: urrgh!

Iancu Popescu: it's at a pool?

Elisabeta Hedervary: ye

Yao Wang: how come, i thought we were supposed to discuss the location here and now?

Stefan Popescu: I like swimming

Elisabeta Hedervary: stefan picked out our pool; it's this spa in budapest

Iancu Popescu: y budapest

Elisabeta Hedervary: shut yer face

Gheorghiev Ivanov: moldova is hungary's baby

Gheorghiev Ivanov: what he wants he gets

Elisabeta Hedervary: touche

Stefan Popescu: yay!

Feliks Lukasiewicz: cool, a pool! I get 2 wear my new swimsuit and sho off my abs

Liet Tolys: OMG fk no

Anya Braginskaya: liet wts wrong?

Liet Tolys: poland being weird

Anya Braginskaya: no duh

Raivis Galante: i read ur chat

Raivis Galante: guys i cant swim

Elisabeta Hedervary: bring swim ring or board or water wings or something. if yuo get bored ill buy you lots of icecream

Raivis Galante: sweet!

Raivis Galante: haha get it

Feliks Lukasiewicz: OMG

Elisabeta hedervary: pleeeeease

Yao Wang: so its decided aru

Yao Wang: but at wt time

Elisabeta Hedervary: idk wenevr is good 4u guys

Edward von Bock: cant come sry guys am studying plants in zanzibar

Yao Wang: thts 2 bad

Elisabeta Hedervary: that's already 9 of us including me

Feliks Lukasiewicz: the czechoslovakia sisters can't come, they phoned me

Elisabeta Hedervary: aw man! theyre so cool

Liet Tolys: SO WHEN IS IT GUYS?

Elisabeta Hedervary: dis week xD

Liet Tolys: if u wnt me 2 come it cant be saturday

Gheorghiev Ivanov: same, I got tickets for some ballet

Gheorghiev Ivanov: its called 'rose among thorns'

Gheorghiev Ivanov: i forgot the author

Yao Wang: so sunday?

Anya Braginskaya: wt about church?

Elisabeta Hedervary: omg isnt church in the morning?

Feliks Lukasiewicz: Friday?

Anya Braginskaya: ye but i have volunteer work

Anya Braginskaya: at the orphanage

Elisabeta Hedervary: wow ur so saintly

Anya Braginsky: plz no

Iancu Popescu: I 3 u

Elisabeta Hedervary: *smh*

Anya Braginskaya: hey hungary remember the extreme historical outfit you wnted me 2 try on

Elisabeta Hedervary: omg yeah

Raivis Galante: friday's good 4 me

Elisabeta Hedervary: same

Feliks Lukasiewicz: lemme check my sex schedule

Anya Braginskaya: ok friday

Liet Tolys: Mr. America says I can have friday free

Anya Braginskaya: yay! :)

Iancu Popescu: I just called my boss he says my holiday was due anyway

Iancu Popescu: the hell it was

Feliks Lukasiewicz: yay! i can come

Yao Wang: I guess friday then

Elisabeta Hedervary: OK chumps then b there at 2

Stefan Popescu: why 2?

Elisabeta Hedervary: y not?

Stefan Popescu: oh

Elisabeta Hedervary: well ciao guys i got to do my nails

Anya Braginskaya: I need to collect the eggs (and drop them) omg id forgotten all about that!

Feliciano Vargas: ciao? THATS ITALIAN!

Elisabeta Hedervary: ITALY WHUT THE FUK R U DOING HERE?

Feliciano Vargas: PLEASE DONT HURT ME MS HUNGARYYY SENSEI! BWAH WAH WHA!

Feliciano Vargas:m whossat

Feliciano Vargas: idk

Feliciano Vargas: ok bye

Feliks Lukasiewicz: omg my new issue of playboy is here!

Yao Wang: yuk, aru!

Seen 5:02 p.m

To be continued...


	6. I NEED A HAIRCUT, ARU!

Chapter Six, aru

I NEED A HAIRCUT!

 _Author's note: Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading my fics!_

 _I am sorry my chapters come so irregularly, but ever since my mother and I argued over whether a jacket was for boys or girls, I am banned from creative writing. Ugh. So I have to publish in secret. Oh well._

 _(Btw I totally won the argument. The ticket said '106 girlies'. Just in case you want to know!)_

Friday was two days away, aru; that left me with two days to fix my fringe cut before any of the'communist, formerly communist and post-sovietic buddies' saw it.

I had to find someone to do it for me that wasn't going to Elisabeta's blasted pool party. I cannot believe how stupid I was to agree to come, aru. But I can't out now.

So I had to think fast, aru; who could help me out with my hair problem?

Ivan was dependable, but he wasn't the tenderest of barbers; I speak from experience, aru. His big sister would be a good choice but she was going to the pool party; and as for Belarus, I tremble at the mere thought of her (technically, I'M a big brother too)!

So I thought and thought and thought. I had several amazing ideas, aru, but every time I thought of someone I'd remember something about that particular person and I was back to square one.

Korea once swore to spin me into a wall by my hair (that was 5 years ago, when I accidentally sort of ate his kimchi by mistake).

Taiwan doesn't do haircuts other that buzz cuts.

England? Who'd ask him for a haircut, with those eyebrows of his? And I've seen him when he was a little kid; he had long, hay-stack styled hair that made him look like a drug addict. That is, until someone cut his hair…

AHA! France!

We were allies once, I know him well enough! And _his_ hair is always fabulous! He was the perfect solution.

So I called him, and he agreed. I must admit though, our conversation _was_ rather strange, aru. It went something like this:

"Oh, Yao _mon petit*_! Of-"

"I'm older than you, aru."

"Pfui! _Of course_ I'll style your hair for you! I've always been _dying_ to give you a makeover." (he was getting really excited now.) "Maybe we could try an elegant Versailles-style coiffure-"

"Nonononono, nothing too fancy aru, just get rid odf my fring cut."

" _Tu n'as pas_."

"Beg your pardon?"

"I said _you don't have_. You don't have a fringe cut."

"Ah, OK. Well I do now, and I want to get rid of it."

" _Tres bien_ *. So...is zat all you want me to do with your _cheveux_?"

"No, not my _chevo_ \- whatever you said, just my hair."

"Cheveux is french for ' _air._ "

"Yes but it's my HAIR, not my air! How does that even make sense?"

" _Je sais*_ , zat eez just _mon accent*_."

"Oh."

"So zat's it?"

"Uhhh...yes."

There was a short silence, and when Francois spoke again he sounded rather hurt.

"You do not trust my skills as a hair-style _least?_ "

"Nonononono! France, it's not that! Of course I do, it's just -I-I want to keep it simple, OK aru?"

France sighed. "OK."

"If I didn't trust you to do a good job, France, why would I have asked you, aru? I did because you have the coolest hair of all the nations!"

(I had to make him feel better somehow.)

France seemed to bright up a bit at the prospect of being the best.

" _Je sais, n'est-ce pas*_? Well, _tu dois venir demain_ , _mon ami*_. Like I said earlier, I've always been dying to give you a haircut. Bye!" he prattled. Then I heard a merry little beep as France hung up.

See how strange it was, aru? Who would die, who would give their life just to cut someone's hair?

I'll never understand younger nations.

French words used:

mon petit- my little one

tu n'as pas- you don't have

tres bien- very good

cheveux- hair

je sais- I know

mon accent- my accent

je sais, n'est-ce pas?- I know, right?

tu dois venir demain, mon ami- you must come tomorrrow, my friend


	7. Something Goes Well For Once

Chapter Seven, aru

Something Goes Well For Once

I gazed into my mirror.

France, aru, you are a genius.

Not only did that strange, chatty, magnificent idiot get rid of my disgusting fringe, he primped and styled my hair in such a way one could barely even tell that I don't have my ponytail anymore.

Not to mention he served me with croissants and _panache*-_ yum, aru! (But rather bland compared to our flavourful Asian cuisine.)

However, he did laughhis naked butt (yes, you guessed it, the garden walks) off when I showed up.

"China," he said, choking on his twittery giggles, "if you hate Japan so much, why did you get his haircut?"

Now, arus and aruettes, if you are wondering why I was stupid enought to travel half around the world just for a haircut, prepare to have one of the major mysteries of Hetalia uncovered for you. It is easy to travel half around the world when it costs nothing and takes less than a minute!

That's right, aru! You call it teleporting, we call it...

NATIONPORTING! (Creative, I know, aru!)

Honestly now, how did you think we nations could meet up so often in the episodes, even when our homelands are so far apart – Greece and Japan, to give an example?

Fangirls are gullible, aru.

Anyways, permit me to return to my story aabout France, aru. Ah yes, did I mention that he blabbed non-stop about some fashion show he'd been to two days ago, and about how _I_ need to start dressing more fashionably and stop wearing just my traditional red robe or my army uniform, bla bla bla, _complete nonsense_ like that, for _the whole time_ I was there?

Oh well, aru, I guess I should not have complained so much about France's talkative, overbearing and somewhat scary personality, aru. After all, that haircut he gave me today was the one and only good thing that had happened to me since that fateful phonecall just two days ago.

Now I can face tomorrow.

To be continued, aru...


	8. Europaliens

Chapter Eight, aru

Europaliens

I woke up, feeling like a zombie. Today was the day, aru.

I dug through _Everests_ , because mountains is an understatement and piles even more so, of my neatly folded clothes till I found my swimsuit. Today was the day, aru.

I put it on. Today was the day, a- oh, forget it.

I looked in the mirror and felt myself go hot all over. _How_ was I supposed to wear this – in front of other people?

A pair of weird little shorts with a synthetic, plastic-y feel to them. That was it, aru. And surely there would be plenty of strangers at the pool. I was practically wearing waterproof boxers…would _you_ wear boxers in front of anyone (oh, I forgot, you're probably a westerner and most westerners lose their virginity by eighth grade, aru)?

Perhaps I should have phrased that better, aru.

Would I wear boxers in front of _anyone_? NO! But I was going to have to wear _these_!

Europeans are strange, _strange_ , STRANGE! They consider it not only _normal_ but _amusing_ to wear underclothes in front of other people!

Suddenly, a crazy thought illuminated my brain like a lightning bolt, aru!

What if Europeans _aren't_ humans?

What if Europeans are…

ALIENS!

Maybe that is why their writing, grammar and language is so different from ours? Maybe that is why they have such a vast range of hair colours: black, brown, blond, red – and occasionally blue, pink, purple or green! And eyes: blue, green, brown, gray. While in Asia and Africa there is only black hair, black eyes.

But Liz Taylor had _purple_ eyes! AHA! So she was the most different of them all!

Liz Taylor must have been the secret leader of the Europaliens, aru! Perhaps that is why she received so much fame and glory in return for such stupid acting skills, and why her death was so mourned…! My eyes have been opened, aru!

And, hey, hey, here's another thing, aru! Since the dawn of time (well, OK, maybe not that far back) Europeans have always tried to gain control over territories _outside_ of their continent! We East Asians _did_ attempt at empires, but only within our continent! (Caucasia doesn't count.)

The Europaliens are trying to take over the world, aru!

Yes, they are definitely not of this world.

I mean, take Russia for an example. I have yet to meet an Asian who is like _him_.

To be continued, aru…


	9. The Pole, The Swim Trunks and the Texter

Chapter Nine, aru

The Pole, the Swim Trunks and the Texters

Still meditating on my latest sensational discovery, I put on my most normal-looking outfit over my swim trunks (that's what they're called, no aru?)

Then I nationported.

Boom! There I was, in Hungary's house. Outside, it rained heavily.

"Elisabeta?" I called.

Instead of Hungary, Poland's blond head peeked out from behind a brightly painted doorway.

"Hungary's, like, cleaning the bathroom," he piped up. "But never mind, you can talk to me!" He plopped down beside me and threw off his shirt.

"What the…" I squealed with shock.

Then Poland squirmed out of his pants.

I shot up, frightened, meaning to seek protection behind the bathroom's closed door and Hungary's frying pan. But Poland grabbed my hand and sat me down again.

He pointed at himself.

"Look at my new bathing suit! I've been _dying_ for someone to see it!" (There it was again, aru, the strange expression!)

Gasping with relief, I looked down at his trunks. They were decorated with a tessellating pattern of black and pink ponies, and were obviously newly-bought.

"Do you like, like them, Yao?"

Who was I to dampen the excited young Pole's enthusiasm, aru? (Well, young compared to me anyway.)

"Um, yeah, they suit you, aru!"

Poland squealed with delight. But just then Lithuania walked.

"Feli, stop terrifying our poor gram- Yao!"

"Have you been talking to Hong Kong?"

The two youngsters blushed.

Just as suddenly as Lithuania had, Romania's rosy-cheeked face appeared.

"Did someone just say Feli? As in Feli Donose? Where, I want her autograph!"

"No Ro, the usual," Lithuania groaned.

"Oh."

"NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR CRUSH ON FELI DONOSE!" came Hungary's voice from two doors down.

"NOBODY CARES ABOUT TRIANON!" Romania shot back, flushing a delicate pink.

"Um…guys?" I quietly put in. "How come you are all here? Were we not supposed to meet at the pool, aru? I only came here to Hungary's as I didn't know the name of the spa and to nationport over to Hungary's seemed the only logical solution?"

"We didn't know the name either," Poland almost screamed (he has a very loud voice). "Elisabeta texted us to meet at her place."

"What does 'texted' mean?" I asked without thinking.

The three whippersnappers facepalmed simultaneously, aru.

To be continued, aru…


	10. A Tourist Attraction

Chapter Ten, aru

A Tourist Attraction

Soon afterwards Ukraine arrived too, with nails were painted blue and yellow and warm hugs for everyone.

" _Bozhe moi_ *! I'm so glad to see you all!" she exclaimed, wiping a tear from her eye (she sure does cry a lot, aru). "Yao...you got a haircut?"

Thanks a lot, Anya. Thanks a lot, Hong Kong!

"What? Seriously?"

"No way, lemme see!"

"Yeah, he did, look!" Ukraine squealed, pointing at my hair.

"It's true!" Poland proclaimed (that all the world might hear, aru). He began advancing towards me, mouth curled into a pink little O of shock and eyes wider than saucers. Uncomfortable, I took a few steps back.

"Why did you cut off your ponytail, it suited you!" Romania whined, as outspoken as ever.

"Mm-hmm," Anya agreed.

Elisabeta came running in through the door, Moldova in tow.

"Omigosh! China you really _did_ cut your hair! Ştefan, look!"

Little Moldova clung to the long green folds of Hungary's dress, uncertainty in his eyes. "Mommy, I'm sca-a-ared!" he wailed, burying his face in her apron.

"SHE'S NOT YOUR MOMMY, I'M YOUR MOMMY!" Romania yelled, obviously angry at Hungary and not at his little brother. Hungary lifted the hand that wasn't stroking Ştefan's hair to her nose and stuck out her pink little tongue at the furious Europalien. (They act like children, honestly they do, aru.)

I went hot all over. Some people (especially Europaliens) simply don't know how to keep out of other people's business. I tried to think of something 'cool' to say, but nothing came to mind, aru.

Finally, Lithuania came to the aid of the damsel in distress (me).

"Oh guys, leave him alone," he chided. "He actually doesn't look all that different. And besides, can't a guy get a haircut without being pounced on by the whole lot of you?"

Moldova shut up but he stuck his thumb in his mouth, and anybody knows that it is bad luck for a child to do that; so I gave him a panda-shaped Chinese mango lollipop (I love children, aru, so I always have this sort of thing on hand). With screams of delight this time, rather than terror he flopped onto the plush red couch and got busy.

The doorbell rang, and in walked Bulgaria. I cringed the moment he lay eyes on me, aru.

"Wow, Yao, you cut your ponytail!" he predictably gasped. Before I even had the chance to sigh and nod listlessly Lithuania once again jumped in.

"Urrgh!" he snarled (I was glad Liet was taking my side, but by now it had begun to rather embarrass me). "I said this before and I'll say it again; can't someone cut their hair without becoming a tourist attraction?"

Personally, I think Liet was very pleased with that expression of his, aru.

The younger nations eyed each other uneasily, but the answer was already clear.

"If that someone is Mr. China, no," Moldova summed up the collective opinions of every nation in the room, from his imposing position - flopped on the red leather couch and eyeing us all benevolently, aru.

"Definitely," Hungary said, playing with my hair. A disbelieving but approving glance in her eyes.

How had she gotten to my shoulder so fast, aru?

"Yao, I actually think you look cooler now," Ukraine purred.

"Mmmm," Hungary mumbled indistinctly, burying her face in my shirt (for some strange reason).

Looks like I won't have to tie a kerosene-soaked Hong Kong to a lit firecracker anymore – I could get used to being a tourist attraction, aru!

To be continued, aru...

Author's note: I always refer to Ukraine as Anya, not Ekaterina. My friends tell me it doesn't suit but personally I don't really care, I think it suits her perfectly.


	11. Why Are All These Chapters So Short?

Chapter Eleven, aru

Why Are All These Chapters So Short?

As soon as Latvia arrived, lugging a large Carrefour bag behind him, Elisabeta ordered us to put on our coats.

Coats? I hadn't brought a coat!

Oh, how all that stress had messed me up, aru!

"I don't have a coat," I mumbled.

"Never mind," Hungary giggled, "you can borrow one of mine."

She dashed out and two minutes later returned, a gray jacket trimmed with fur about the hood draped over her outstretched arm.

"Here," she chuckled impertinently, "try this on for size."

Blushing heavily, I slipped into the grey jacket. Here's the most embarrassing part, aru:

 _It fit perfectly,_ aru!

Everyone tried their best not to laugh as Hungary led us out of her pretty, quaint little house. "Guys," she babbled, "I have such a surprise! You won't believe!"

Our curiosity grew as she pulled out her keys and unlocked the front door. Even Romania looked interested, aru.

"Ta-daa!" she yelled as she swung the door open (right into Romania, 'by mistake' of course).

Before our eyes, a shining gray minibus stood parked, aru.

"I hired it so we could all drive together and it could be just like a ride to a field trip!" she jubilated with a proud flip of her hair.

Ukraine's wide eyes sparkled. Poland jumped up and down and donned a unicorn one-piece suit. (shut up, Japan, this has no reference to 'One Piece' and so you cannot sue me. Take that.) Bulgaria shouted "Coo-oo-ool!" Romania rubbed his nose with happily and Moldova, squeaking with joy, charged in like a pioneer into the Promised Land and grabbed hold of the steering wheel, pretending to drive.

"Vroom! Vroom!" he shouted.

"Yeah, yeah," Hungary said, easily lifting the excited boy off. She spoke dryly but oh, with such love. She dotes on that child, aru.

"Who wants to drive?" Elisabeta called decisively. "Besides China, for obvious reasons." (That sort of hurt, aru, although I know it's true.)

Nobody wanted to, aru.

"Oh, OK," Hungary finally conceded, dropping onto the driver's seat with the sigh of a martyred saint. She turned the key and, as the motor started rumbling out its annoying tune, she pumped her delicate white fist in the air and shouted, "Here's to a fun day at the pool!"

"YAAAY!" Everyone replied. (All but me. Screaming at or around more than one or two people, even at a public protest, embarrasses me, aru.) So the car started and we drove away.

Everybody seemed excited and chatty; everyone but me. _I_ for one felt tense and worried, aru.

I don't know, aru. There is a certain joy in being the wise, mild-mannered, hard-tested old man whose advice everybody asks – but sometimes I think it might actually be nice to be...

You know...uh...

Aru...

I mean...

TO BE YOUNGER!

There, I said it, aru.


	12. My First Blunder

Chapter Twelve, aru

My First Blunder

It took a while, but we finally arrived. Hungary accuses Asians of driving poorly but really that's quite hypocritical coming from her. Bulgaria and Latvia played chess and four times their board was messed up.

Moldova, for once, was moderately quiet. He was playing Pokemon on his elder brother's cellular phone. Ukraine and Lithuania were reminiscing Soviet times in hushed, trembling voices and Poland, well, he did some unutterable things. Too traumatized to tell, aru. No Japan, he did not rape anyone. Just because your soldiers have shown a historical predilection for- ow! Alright, aru, for hitting me, I will tell no further.

Exactly.

Hmm?

Oh, alright, aru, if you insist.

After about an hour we arrived at the spa, a big, glass dome-y thing from wherefore echoed laughter and splashing. As we approached, Poland's nattering failed to distract me from the sight of several pretty girls diving into the water.

Hmm.

At the reception desk, Hungary paid swiftly, eager to jump into the water and drown the memory of the pool party's cost in lukewarm, bubbling water. Then we all rushed towards somewhere, I didn't know where in particular, but everyone was heading there so I followed after them, aru.

Turns out they were leading me to the changing cabinets. Thoroughly distracted by the worry that had taken hold of me once again, aru, I walked in through the wrong door.

Japan, shut up.

I would have gotten into a very embarrassing predicament had Ukraine not spied me and gently whispered, "Yao, the other door."

I flushed bright red from the horror of my monumental mistake and stumbled out the loose white doors, surrounded by the sounds of rushing water and of giggling, whispering females.

I am glad they spoke in Hungarian, as I could not understand what they were saying - and I preferred it that way, aru.


	13. The Mutual Armistice

Chapter Thirteen, aru

The Mutual Armistice

Dear God,

If you actually exist, aru, I fervently thank you for preventing Feliks from hearing of my past blunder.

Amen, aru.

Finally I was ready to swim. I still felt very exposed, aru, in my minuscule shorts. But I realized every other man was wearing the same sort of thing and that nobody was staring at me, so I guess that helped a little, aru.

Perhaps your laughter at the many goofy things I was to do that day will subside when I explain that I have never been to a proper swimming pool before, aru. Of course they exist back in China, but they are usually full to the brim and quite unpleasant to visit, aru. So I prefer visiting lakes or rivers and swimming there. Much more peaceful, much more quiet.

The rest of our Socialist gang was already swimming or splashing around. Hungary's every movement was eagerly followed by at least three guys but she just swam gracefully around, pretending not to notice but really showing off. Ukraine and Latvia were playing some game with Moldova. Bulgaria, Romania and Lithuania were having a race and Poland was flirting easily with at least six good-looking girls. He is such a girl-magnet, aru, with that long blond hair of his and his arrogant, handsome features!

I tell it like I saw it, aru.

I didn't know what to do, aru, so I sat by the edge of the pool and dipped my feet in the water. As I watched Hungary swim I noticed that now she was swimming towards Romania. I bit my lip; there was no way this was going to turn out happily for either.

Do you remember how I said earlier that the younger nations act like children? Well, all little children in a public place need supervision, aru.

I had just found myself something to keep me occupied.

I dived into the water and waded over to Romania to warn him. "Watch out, Iancu, Hungary is coming behind you," I told him.

Romania's body tensed and he whipped around to face the sheepish girl in her flowered swim cap.

"What do you want?" he growled. Bulgaria backed off.

Hungary didn't seem to get angry, aru.

"Romania, the pact," she reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Romania replied meekly, and the two hopped out of the water to a chaise-longue nearby, peaceably enough it seemed.

Bulgaria and I heaved simultaneous sighs of relief.

"Gheorghiev," I asked before he could swim away, "What pact where they talking about?"

Bulgaria smiled helplessly. "Those two, they really are hopeless," he sighed. "'The Mutual Armistice' is something Anya came up with to stop them from killing each other on outings and therefore spoiling everyone else's day. Basically they sign a piece of paper that seals a sort of peace treaty between the two for as long as the event goes on."

"That was smart of her, aru," I said.

"Yes. On times like now, it's almost as if they become...sort of friends."

I raised an eyebrow as my answer to Bulgaria's wistful statement.

Maybe the Europaliens are not as strange as I first deemed them to be, aru.


	14. Moldova's Tantrum

Chapter Fourteen, aru

"Iancu, Iancu, Iancu, IANCU! IANCU? _IANCU_!?"

Moldova's insistent cries rang embarrassingly loud over the main pool, and a few old ladies wallowing in the nearby jaccuzzi turned to look at him with a question in their eyes.

Romania, who was at the moment soaking in the other jaccuzzi with Elisabeta, turned around to eye the wailing child with annoyance.

" _Yes_ , Moldova?" Romania said dangerously.

"I WANNA GO ON THE BIG RIDE!" he squealed, jabbing his stubby little finger up at a large, water-filled plastic tube. I could see Feliks sliding down it headfirst, aru with one of the pretty girls he'd been talking to before sitting cross-legged on his back, waxed arms in the air. I blushed very deep and quickly averted my eyes, thinking such behaviour scandalous, aru.

Can you believe that this is considered _normal_ in Europe, aru? Or maybe it wasn't...what I mean to say is, with Feliks, one can never know.

Arrgh! Europaliens, what can I say?

Romania gave a theatrical sigh. "Moldova, I'm in the middle of something!"

In the middle of something, aru? Hmmm! But I always thought those two hated each other...!

I blushed again.

"Do I look like I give a f*ck? TAKE ME!"

Romania looked appalled as he scanned the spa with anxious eyes, as if he'd forgotten that everybody in the spa was Hungarian (besides us, aru and a few Japanese tourists. No, Japan, I did _not_ dishonour myself in front of your countrymen.) " _Ştefan, cine te-a învăţat să vorbeşti aşa*_?!" he scolded.

"Big brother Russia. Take me NOW!"

So spoiled, aru.

"Urrgh. How dare he," he muttered to Hungary. And to the problematic little tantrum-thrower, " _Ivan nu-i frati-tu*_!"

"Big-bro-ther-Rus-sia," the little devil sang slowly. "Big brother Rus-sia! Big brother Rus-sia!"

"Arrgh! Stop saying that!"

"BIG BROTHER RUS-SIA!"

"Aaah! Shut it!"

Moldova shot his furious older brother a sweet smile.

"Big brother-"

"SHUT UP OR I WON'T TAKE YOU!"

"So you'll take me?"

He batted his long, child's eyelashes. Iancu rubbed the heel of his palm across his forehead in a smooth, slow motion as if it pained him.

"FINE!" Beside him, Elisabeta covered her mouth with her hand so as to not show she was laughing, aru!

I could see Iancu was really quite upset at the smug, laughing little boy and so I told him I'd take him.

"Bless you, Yao!" the poor Europalien exclaimed. "Thank you so much! I don't know what's wrong with Moldova, he's normally such a well-behaved kid!"

I rumpled the little child's wet brown hair, aru. "Aw, he is just trying to show off to the pretty girls over there, aru."

Ştefan blushed beet-red and smacked my hand away sourly. I laughed, apologised and led him to the big tube, aru.

If only I would have known what I was getting into, aru!

To be continued, aru…


	15. The Glass Monster That Eats Children

Chapter Fifteen, aru

The Glass Monster That Eats Little Children

 _Author's note: Guess what, readers? I am allowed to do creative writing again! Yay!_

 _I guess Mom must have figured that the whole jacket thing was pretty flipping retarded. Well, anyways, I'm letting bygones be bygones and, to celebrate, I will publish a somewhat longer chapter! Consider it a deluxe 'holiday' special._

 _Thanks for reading my insane blabberings :)_

 _Have fun with Yao the Clueless!_

With Molova's little hand in mine, I headed to the large glass tube thingy I had seen Feliks and the girl hurtle down.

"Mr. China, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, aru," I replied, surprised but pleased.

"Why are you so old?"

I looked down at him, wondering. "Why did you ask me that?"

"Because you are old."

Little kids.

"Well, aru, I suppose it is because I represent my country and that is the oldest civilization in the world, aru!" I proudly explained.

"So do all chinese have big fat beards?"

At this I laughed outright as we climbed the metal stairs to the large ride. "Umm...no, aru, in fact very few of us do."

Moldova looked away from him, the expression on his face the very defintion of the word 'confusement'.

"The world seemed so simple before this moment," he said.

I tried not to laugh.

At the top of the freezing white metal stairs there was...how to explain it? A smallish black chamber with some bubbling water on the floor. It looked very strange to me. There was a sort of seat to park your butt on while waiting, aru. The black chamber led to a long glass tube. Beside us there stood a small panel with a red light on it.

Moldova ran into the chamber immediately, but I held him back. "Wait, aru!" I said. "Under this weird light it says to wait until it turns green to ride."

"You can read Hungarian?"

"No, aru, it says the same thing in English underneath."

"Oh."

Phew, I thought, at least I saw the panel thing and didn't get myself or, even worse, Moldova into trouble.

"When will it be green?" the little boy whined in a spoiled-kid sort of voice. "I want to go sometime this year!"

"If you keep acting so spoiled, it will stay red forever," I simply told him.

Good thing he was still young and gullible, aru, or I could never have pulled it off!

Moldova shut up.

In like a century it finally turned green. With a shout of triumph the child ripped his hand out of mine and jumped into the seat.

"Whooo!" he screamed. "At last I know what true power feels like! UNLIMITED POWEERRRR!"

Then the chair launched him into the glass tube. Squealing with joy I watched him slide down.

I was just thinking 'Wow aru, it's amazing what strange things make different people happy. For example, at the moment nothing could have made me happier than to just be back home, relaxing in my kitchen making Zongzi.

But then some guy in boxers like mine came running towards me brandishing a clipboard. I froze. Had I done something wrong? I wasn't colourblind, was I?

" _Te felelős, hogy a fiatal fiú?_ " asked the lifeguard.

He must I have thought I was one of the many chinese businessmen in this part of the world! Or...maybe he even thought I was hungarian, due to the fact that many hungarians also have slanted eyes, aru!

"Uh...I don't speak Hungarian," I meekly stuttered.

The guy seemed even more annoyed by the fact that I didn't seem to understand his creepy language and began pointing furiously at some writing on a waterproof sign stuck to one of the walls of the black chamber.

 **Gyermekek 10 év alatti nem megengedett**

 **Children under ten not allowed**

I was furious at how unfair this all was, aru! Moldova is, in reality, at least a few hundred years old! But indeed his physical appearance is that of a five-year-old and that guy was fuming at me and I was blushing and I didn't know what to say because I cannot speak his language and the situation was getting very intense when suddenly…

There was a sound something in between rubbing and crashing and a squeaky "OOOOWWW!"

My blood ran cold.

The Hungarian guy gave me a very meaningful look and rushed down the stairs to see what was wrong.

Oh, no, not Moldova! I was so sad and worried and exasperated all at once, I just wanted to curl up in my bed and cry...some women that had lined up behind me were starting to yell at me, in Hungarian of course, as if they hadn't yet figured out I hadn't a clue what in the name of tranquillity they were saying, aru.

By now there was quite the commotion and Romania and Hungary had gotten their lazy butts out of the jacuzzi to see what the problem was. I as all pale and timid and shrinking before the large shouty ladies and I didn't know what to do, aru…

TO BE CONTINUED, ARU...


	16. How To Ruin A Pool Party

Chapter Sixteen, aru

How To Ruin A Pool Party

 _Author's note: Hi guys! Thank you so much for reading my fics. I am sorry that my chapters are coming so slowly and irregularly but I am so busy these days, what with publishing my book and everything (no, I am not joking). Congratulate me ;) !_

 _I will try to change that. Today my mom and younger brothers went out for like eight hours and left me home with my big brother who doesn't give a shit what I do as long as it's not annoying him. S o I got the chance to write quite a bit and whaddya know, I think I'll probably finish the story today. I've not got so much to go, it's almost complete._

 _Reviews, criticism even, follows and faves are 3 !_

 _Have fun with_ _ **The Chink Who Breaks Pool Rules**_ _._

What happenned next was a nightmare, aru! Ștefan had broken something and was bawling his face off, and Hungary called the ambulance. I basically spent my time apologising to Romania and trying not to cry. Ro spent his time alternatively telling me not to worry as it wasn't really my fault and talking on the phone with a suprisingly calm look on his face. The lifeguard spent his time still yelling at me in Hungarian (I suppose either he still hadn't figured out I couldn't speak Hungarian, aru). It was as stressing as it was confusing, not to mention I felt so sorry the whole time and really didn't know what to do, aru.

Five noisy minutes later the ambulance arrived, and Moldova forgot all his sufferings at the joy of being carriedon a stretcher. He positively squealed with delight as they put him in the back of the ambulance together with Romania who gave him some candy, so he would stop blabbing and let him think.

As the ambulance drove off, Hungary sighed and headed for the changing rooms, as did I. Most everyone followed – nobody was in the mood for partying anymore. I say _most everybody_ because Poland was still in the sauna flirting with that blonde girl I had seen him in the Big Ride with. He was entirely oblivious to what had just transpired and Liet had to go and inform him. (Apparently Poland still was in the mood for partying after hearing about Moldova's accident, because I heard him protesting and whining about how unfair it all was – how immature, aru!)

We dressed and got our things and then trudged back to Hungary's van. Everyone was crowding around me and repeatedly asking me how it had happenned and all that balderdash. I was in no mood to repeat the whole tragic story five times for the benefit of _certain_ nosy nations (no Japan, I am not refferring to you so close your mouth), but I guess I owed it to them after having ruined their party, aru.

„We-e-ell," I quietly explained, „Moldova wanted to go on the big glass ride- "

„Oh Gra-Yao, that's _plas-tic_ ," Bulgaria condescendingly corrected me, speaking slowly and clearly as one would to a small, dumb child.

„Begging your most gracious pardon, aru," I simply replied. „He wanted to go on the ride and Buddha forbid he should go alone, so I took him. Romania...well, he was busy." (I looked over at Hungary and caught a faint blush in her cheeks before she snorted and exclaimed „Pa-leeeeeeze!")

„So we went up the stairs and as soon as the little light went green, down Moldova went...then this lifeguard came and started yelling at me, and it turns out kids his age aren't allowed. N-no Poland, not th lifeguard's age, M-moldova's age. Then we heard Moldova yell ow and that's pretty much it."

I looked down at my feet and sighed.

„I'm _so_ sorry I ruined this whole thing for you guys," I said as Hungary got out her keys. We climbed into the van and drove off.

„I don't see why you should be saying sorry," Hungary called from the driver's seat.

Funny, she didn't sound angry at all!

„I mean," she continued, „It's not your fault – it's Moldova's. Sure it sucks and all, but don't beat yourself up."

„Tha – thank you!" I awkwardly stammered, overwhelmed by surprise. „But I'm _not_ hitting myself – I'm not quite _that_ demonstrative in remorse, aru!"

Everybody chuckled.

„What is it, aru?"

„Oh, never mind, gra- Yao."

I shall never understand youngsters, aru.

TO BE CONTINUED, ARU...


	17. Home Sweet Home

Chapter Seventeen, aru

Home Sweet Home

I need not make this story any longer – here's the short of it. Hungary decided she'd had quite enough excitement for one day and became quite cross. Neither of us dared or for that matter _cared_ to stick around. Therefore we all nationported back to our respective homes.

This is what I mean when I say _never trust whippersnappers, aru!_ Something is always bound to go wrong, aru…I mean, in this case it was not their fault, it was Moldova's and…partly mine, heh heh, but anything that has to do with young people is tricky business, aru…at least I can say I've learned my lesson, aru!

However, in case you are not satisfied Moldova _did_ get better, and very quickly at that. Romania called me a week later to say that Moldova was back at home and cheery as ever. He said everything was OK (I know what that means! Yay!) and he wasn't even thinking of pressing charges, but that he still expected me to reimburse him for his pain and suffering, aru. I was just about to gratefully ask him how much he wanted when Hong Kong, who luckily happened to be visiting, snatched the mobile phone out of my awkward grip and made Romania sorry he had ever even tried.

I just don't know how he does it, aru.

P.S.: Here's a little something more. Hungary is secretly planning another reunion to which I am not invited, aru; neither is Moldova. I heard it from Poland, who is always on top of the gossip. This time Estonia and the Czechoslovakia sisters are coming too, as is Belarus (for some strange reason).

I bet the reason Hungary is keeping the second reunion so hush-hush is because she doesn't want my feelings to be hurt, aru. But I am actually glad I have not been invited, aru…even if I had been, I would have had to decline and coughed up an imaginary obstacle in the way of my going. There is no way I could have told her that I never wanted to have anything to do with whippersnapper's parties ever again, aru! Well. I said earlier that I've learned my lesson, aru…I guess poor little Elisabeta has also learned hers!

She now knows it as well as I: you just can't teach an old nation new tricks!

THE END, ARU…

 _Phew! It's over! No more suspense…_

 _I've finally finished_ You Can't Teach An Old Nation New Tricks _! I seriously didn't know if it would ever end. But it has._

 _Thank you, readers, for all your faves and follows…you have no idea how much it means to me, even though I keep saying 'reviews, faves and follows are love'. Well, I truly feel loved, but if you loved this story by all means KEEP IT COMING…especially positive and well-informed criticism. (There is nothing I hate more than someone with skills plainly inferior to mine giving me catty, jealousy-born hate, but there is nothing I LOVE more than friendly tips from other writers like myself on how to improve my style.)_

 _So, if you liked my work, PLEASE try some of my other stories too…please?_

 _Well, bye…for now._

;D !


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